A Long Time Ago
by Kirmon64
Summary: TFA:: When Longarm Prime's arm smashed downwards in a motion obviously intended to kill, Blurr was pretty sure something was wrong.


**Title:** A Long Time Ago**  
Genre:** Tragedy/Angst/Hurt/Comfort? I guess lol?**  
Rating:** T**  
Warnings:** Let's see... non-graphic slash and incest, parts that would be gory if I were writing about organics... I think that's it :P**  
Uploaded:** August 5/09**  
**

Well, I know this basic premise has been written a couple times at least, but I rather like Blurr so I'm going to add my own version of Blurr Survived to the pile XP  
Beware of the dialogue-walls-of-text XD Also the formatting is kinda wonky because ffdotnet refused to cooperate...  
Inspired by Imogen Heap's "Speeding Cars".

* * *

When the decorative red circle in the center of Longarm Prime's face suddenly began to glow, Blurr thought that maybe something was wrong.

He wasn't the smartest bot. That, he could admit to himself. But there was that itch to flee, that - that instinctive itch that had never once led him astray.

But this was _Longarm Prime_...

When Longarm Prime's arm smashed downwards in a motion obviously intended to kill, Blurr was pretty sure something was wrong.

In the blink of an eye he moved out of the path of the arm, before he could even process what he was doing. Then again, if he'd waited a second longer to figure it out...

"Do you normally make it a habit to attack your own bots, sir? I mean, it seems kind of like a Decepticon-like behaviour if you don't mind me saying so sir - ahh!"

And he was off, before he realized what was going on, before it even registered that he was being shot at. His mind caught up a moment later and dear _Primus_ had Longarm just transformed into a _tank_?

When Longarm Prime began to shoot at him with an altmode that he _definitely shouldn't have_, Blurr was entirely certain that something was very, _very_ wrong.

His mouth moved and he was sure he was talking but like his legs, it often seemed to have a mind of its own. He dodged two more shots - or was it more? Couldn't remember, he'd just _acted_ - before bolting. Longarm Prime... Longarm Prime _was the traitor he'd been warned about_.

He bit back a bitter laugh. No time for self-pity, for despair at indirectly aiding the Decepticons for stellar cycles, for wishing he'd told someone - _anyone_ - else about what he'd found out.

No time for anything... but getting _out_ of here.

There was movement and wait was that a _blast door_ closing? - and his legs sent him dashing down a side hall - and another blast door - and -

STOP.

One hundred to zero in exactly one-point-three seconds.

Turn around.

Backtrack.

Get _out_ -

Except...

His instinctual mind locked up, trying so very hard to find someplace to _run_ and yet finding nothing - and so his logical mind could finally catch up.

He was trapped.

And his space was getting smaller.

_No_.

Oh, Primus, _no_.

His legs took control again and suddenly he was running at one blast door and pushing against it with all his might and -

.

And Bluestreak laughed at him.

It wasn't a mean laugh, because Blue just wasn't like that. He was the kind of bot who could make light of anything in the world, because he could _see_ the silver lining clear as the stars in the sky, maybe even literally for all Blurr knew.

"Blurr come on you're not hurt that bad just get up because you know it could be worse you could have severed your back strut or something and I'd have to take you to a medical center but I'd probably have to offline you first and Primus that really would not be fun I mean I wonder how I could knock you out because you're bigger than me and stronger too and-"

Blurr laughed right along with Blue and just like that his leg didn't hurt anymore. It was like Blue simply talked the piece of steel right out with that rambling, nonsensical way of speech he had.

Still rambling on - "- And you know, we should maybe try to see Crystal City I heard it sparkles -" - Blue offered his hand to Blurr and he took it with a grin, pulling himself to his feet -

.

And Blurr whirled around - try the other door, maybe it was weaker and ohPrimuspleaseletitbeweaker!

And for a moment it moved, for just a moment -

.

Rage lit up his processor, consumed it utterly, because wasn't he _good_ enough?

But the rage winked out of existence a moment later, replaced by drenching, clogging depression. All this time... over this stellar cycle, this very long stellar cycle... his lover had been with another bot. Or multiple bots. The thought that Dragonfly might have been cheating on more than one lover didn't cheer him up at all.

Why? Why had Dragonfly decided to go behind his back like this? Hadn't he tried his best to keep him happy, to be there when he was needed? Tried his best to be the perfect lover?

Perfect, apparently, wasn't good enough.

"Blurr hey I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to this art exhibit there's supposed to be some really interesting pieces there like light art and it sounds really cool doesn't it but it must have been difficult to make right because controlling light would be like herding cats and I wonder where that metaphor came from it doesn't really-"

For the first time in a very long while, Blurr tuned out his brother's nonstop vocal thought train. He just... didn't want to deal with Blue right now. Didn't want to be cheered up. Just wanted to be _alone_...

A pair of gentle grey hands took hold of his own.

"Blurr don't think about Dragonfly I know you're hurting but you have to forgive him because we're all so young still and I know that you're not sure of what you want and he probably wasn't either and maybe right now he's already regretting things and maybe he's not, you know? - but the point is that you have to begin to _heal_, and forgive, and open your Spark."

Never before had Blurr heard Blue actually finish a sentence while still being on the same topic as he'd started with. It must have taken considerable effort to do so. "I know, Blue, I really do, but at the same time it's like he's taken a piece of my Spark with him and destroyed it, now how am I supposed to find a silver lining with that?"

Bluestreak smiled one of those enigmatic smiles that he so rarely showed, lightly flicking his brother in the nose. "Because I love you, silly."

And Blurr grinned, because he just couldn't help himself, hearing his brother say those three words so earnestly, in a sentence so short that he though it impossible for Blue to articulate

.

And he braced against both walls and _pushed_.

Pushed as hard as he could, sending all his considerable horsepower into _staying alive_ and he heard something in his leg _POP-_

But he kept pushing because if he stopped -

.

He was going to die.

He'd heard his Creators die. Heard Inferno and Firestar try to defend Red Alert and Bluestreak and himself against the far larger and stronger Decepticons but they weren't fighters. They weren't even remotely fighters.

And now he was here, between three Decepticons with Blue, only meters away from his Creators' gray frames, and he prayed to Primus that Red Alert had escaped - but she couldn't have, not with her bondmates dead - except they hadn't bonded yet, had they? So maybe she'd...

Bluestreak wasn't talking. His lips were moving, soundlessly, and Blurr was afraid that his vocalizer had been damaged but no, he was whispering to himself, whispering something that no doubt would have baffled anyone had they bothered to listen.

There was no one left to listen.

The city was dead, a shell, a burnt-out husk littered with the corpses of its residents. Whatever Praxians still lived had either escaped or were now forced into a fate worse than death... a fate that Blurr and his brother now shared...

Blurr bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. It wouldn't do him any good... wouldn't do Blue any good. Primus, how was Blue going to live more than a joor? How were _either_ of them going to?

He scooted sideways, intent on offering his brother what little comfort he could. The Decepticons paid the two of them little attention... they weren't fighters, after all. They couldn't fly like their captors could... couldn't escape.

He found Blue's servo and squeezed it, hoping to offer some reassurance, hoping that somehow they could make it out of here alive. Blue looked up, fuchsia optics meeting Blurr's own for several long moments. He wished he knew what his brother was thinking, even though he probably wouldn't be able to fully comprehend it... because maybe whatever he could comprehend would help them somehow, would let him provide the action to Blue's plans -

Blurr suddenly found himself kissing his brother - a kiss he hadn't initiated. Despite everything, despite the horrors both of them had just been through, he found himself relaxing into the gentle touch. It wasn't often that Blue did initiate an intimate moment... the mech liked his personal space... Primus, was this going to be the last time they got to do something like this? Had Blue seen something he hadn't? Well, this _was_ Bluestreak... of _course_ he'd seen something differently...

Blue broke off as suddenly as he'd began the kiss and half-stood, dragging and pushing his brother to his feet. The three Decepticons turned at the sudden movement and Blurr froze because what in Primus' name was Blue _thinking_? He was going to get the both of them slagged except _there was an opening_ right between two of the mechs and if he ran _right now _-

_Move_.

The order formed in his processor, bid his legs to propel himself forwards before he even consciously realized what he was doing. The brute hulking over him grabbed, dove, but now he was _running_ and no one could ever catch him.

Debris flew into the air as his pedes dug in, showering them all with soot, propelling him forwards and away away _away_ faster than he'd gone before so fast his frame was splinteringawaybuthecouldn'tstophadtogetaway -

_Bluestreak_.

He stopped.

Turned.

_No_...

His brother's wide, scared optics glowed out from the falling soot, from between the two far larger Decepticons.

What to do? _What to do_?

Blue would know... Blue's processor was _fast_, it worked in ways no one really understood, he'd know a way out, he always knew a way out, except this time _he_ was the one who needed the way out and nonono_no_.

"Blue!" he screamed but _why_, why was he screaming at his brother, because words weren't going to solve this even though Blue had said time and time again that words could solve anything.

Nononono_no_...

They were coming.

Graceless hulking brutes lacking the finesse that the both of them possessed but they didn't need grace, didn't need physical or mental speed because their bulk more than made up for it, allowed them to crush whatever was in their way and _pulverise_ his sleek frame into so many sparking pieces -

Bluestreak's wide-eyed, terrified gaze followed him, so terrified he couldn't _think_ and if Blue couldn't think from the fear what chance did he stand if he came close to them? He'd get bogged down in that fog, mired in it, unable to run away unable to escape unable to _live_.

Blurr turned and ran like he'd never run before -

.

_But the walls were there_.

And they were pushing in harder and harder andharderandharderand there was a

_CRACK_

And Blurr screamed -

.

Because there was nothing left of Praxus.

No.

No.

NO.

Twisted metal, shattered glass and crystal and spilt oil and coolant and energon and oh Primus the _energon _-

Blurr emptied his tanks beside the corpse of someone who might once have been an artisan. Impossible to tell for sure. The frame might once have been gold and black; and there were remnants of elegant headfins on either side of the head without a face.

They'd gone down fighting. There was too much of - of everything for it to all be from that one bot - and there, off to the side, was the frame of the bot's attacker, gutted with a berserker rage -

Blurr began to run.

Trying to outrun the images flying through his processor, of mechs and femmes and drones and buildings gutted, of _fire_, of his Creators screaming in agony, of the medics unable to keep up with the ever-rising casualty count, of the artisan with the headfins fighting for his life.

Of _Bluestreak_.

Of his confidante and best friend and brother and lover and _everything_ being tortured and maimed and killed in a thousand and one different ways and Blue was begging, was pleading, was _screaming_ and he had left Blue behind to all these fates and _oh_...

He tripped and slid in a puddle of somebody's fluids and fell into their fire-blackened corpse and dislocated his shoulder but he couldn't cry out, not anymore -

.

Because his vocalizer had been crushed, crushed by the slowly oh so _slowly_ squeezing walls and all that escaped was a staticky sound, a death rattle that nobody could hear, ever would hear, just the same as -

.

"- Bluestreak."

Blurr jumped, jumped and nearly bolted as his legs took over. The guards on either side of his battered frame - or at least he hoped and prayed that they were guards and he glanced over at their Elite Guard sigils just to reassure himself - immediately took hold of his arms and lifted him off the ground. So he couldn't run, couldn't dash around the base again until his energy reserves ran out and he dropped into forced recharge mid-stride. Because they felt _so much_ like the Decepticons, the Decepticons that had-

"Bluestreak? Bluestreak the savant?"

"The same. Judging by his records, this bot is his older brother, and they were close, so they were probably together during the attack. Science Division wants us to find Bluestreak, and Zippy here is the best chance we have right now."

Both bots turned blue optics on Blurr, blue optics that were full of kindness but at the same time they were so much like the Deceptions' because they _wanted_ something from him and it really didn't matter that they wanted something entirely different, because that hungry look in their optics was the _same_ -

The smaller of the two mechs approached, trying to smile, trying to be friendly, but Blurr could see the hint of distrust, of pity in his features. "Blurr, isn't it? Do you think you could help us, Blurr? Help us find your brother - find Bluestreak?"

Blurr stared at the two of them for several very long moments, fuchsia optics darting back and forth as he tried to find a way out, tried to escape... to where he wasn't sure. Nowhere. Anywhere. Wherever his legs took him.

But Blue...

And Blurr found himself nodding that yes, he'd willingly go back into the Pit itself to find his brother... to find what had happened to him -

.

And Blurr felt something within him simply _let go_...

...

..

...

...

...Blurr is standing in a city of white.

Outlines are faint, a pale glowing blue that doesn't quite follow what the outline should be, because it twists and turns and jumps and sparks. He's not entirely sure of what he's seeing, not entirely sure of if he should be trying to escape this strange place.

A shape approaches.

It's larger than he is and it's bright, and Blurr thinks that maybe he should be running away... but something about this shape is benevolent. This shape... is a friend.

The shape - the energy - the _thing_, whatever it is, wraps around him with a gentle embrace, pale blue tendrils of energy dancing through the air, and somehow those tendrils feel familiar, and he thinks that maybe he's _met_ this... outline-shape before...

"Heya Blurr it's been a while hasn't it-"

... and Blurr realizes that he does indeed know this outline-shape very well.

"- And I guess you kind of missed me okay well that would be an understatement but you know what I meant and you know what? - I kind of missed you too Blurr because you're the only person I've really, _really_ loved, and I guess I never really told you that before did I? I'm really sorry about that Blurr but you know how I get really distracted all the time and a lot of the time I just figured you knew because I could see what you thought really clearly and I used to forget all the time that other people couldn't tell what I was thinking like that just by looking into my Spark, and you know sometimes I didn't like being able to do that because some bots just had so much _hatred_ in their souls - like those Decepticons, you remember them right Blurr? - But why am I asking, I'm sorry I can tell you can Blurr because it's written all over your Spark and you've never forgotten about it and I guess that's a good thing but Blurr I know you've been dwelling on it and how you left me behind but you know what? - I never blamed you and there was no way I could have escaped - I _saw_ it - and it's okay by me, Blurr."

Bluestreak leans in close as though he's going to share a special secret.

"_It was a long time ago_."

And Blurr sees he's right. Sees that it's been thousands of stellar cycles since Praxus fell. Sees that he's never really lived. Never really progressed past the guilt and grief. Especially the guilt. _Especially_ the guilt. But how could he, even if there was no way out for his brother? How could he forget that he left Blue behind...?

"Blurr, _please_, stop thinking about that because don't you see, Blurr? - don't you _see_ that thinking about it has changed you for the worse, has done _things_ to you, Blurr? - you're so different that I can hardly recognize you anymore and that's not a good thing because you're all shriveled up inside and I can see it, I can _see it_, your Spark's slowly dying in its chamber being eaten away and Blurr you have to _stop_, _please_ Blurr - for me?"

Blurr can't resist that voice, could never resist that voice. He tries to find words, tries to speak, but finds himself unable, finds himself paralyzed. Maybe here - wherever here is - is someplace where you can't speak. Or maybe his vocalizer's broken. He remembers something about that, vaguely...

The Bluestreak-energy-shape wrapped around his frame _shifts_ and suddenly he can recognize the bot standing before him... can see the shimmering white outline that forms a frame he knows by sight, by sound, by _touch_...

He closes his optics and reaches out, tentatively, hoping that the form is more solid than it looks... and to his surprise it _is_ and he instantly wraps his arms around his brother - strange, how he's the older one, and yet it's always been Blue offering the support, even now - and he bites back a choked sob.

"_Blue_..."

Bluestreak returns the hug, and Blurr can feel him trembling. He doesn't say anything, though, but that's okay because they don't need words right now. It's just the two of them, frame to frame, Spark to Spark, wrapped in _love_.

Blurr isn't sure of how long they just stand there like that but it feels far too short because when Blue presses his servos to the sides of Blurr's face he doesn't want to open his optics, doesn't want to be brought back to the here and now, just wants to stay in Blue's arms forever. It's impossible, though, because something is prodding him gently, telling him that he has to go soon, telling him that he needs to listen to what Blue has to say before it's too late...

Blurr finally finds it within himself to speak but he can't do more than whisper. He's not sure if that's his own fault or Blue's or someone or something else's but it's okay anyways, because Blue can hear him and that's all that matters. "Is there a silver lining to this? - Blue, please tell me there's a silver lining because I don't know if I can find one myself, and if there isn't-"

Bluestreak smiles that enigmatic smile. "Blurr, you should know by now that no matter what happens and no matter how bad things are there is always... always... _always_ a silver lining..."

"...You just have to find it."

Blue kisses him, one of the most passionate kisses the two of them have ever shared despite the fact that they're both dead - because this is what the Well of All Sparks is, isn't it? - but Blurr can't find it in himself to be bothered by that fact.

Blue backs up a step, or floats, or whatever, falling back into the shapeless mass of energy. "Good luck Blurr I love you-"

And suddenly Blue's gone -

And there was nothing but blinding pain.

* * *

_'Wake up Blurr you've got stuff to do.'_

One.

Two.

Three.

_Breathe_.

The deathly gray frame lying on the medical berth suddenly stiffened before arching its back with a sharp intake of air. Cooling fans began to spin as their owner gasped for breath, trying to cool overheated systems. The Spark relit, began to pulse weakly in its chamber. Those who had given up trying to do that very thing only moments before stared in astonishment.

One.

Two.

Three.

_Breathe_.

Color flooded back through the frame, even as its fingers twitched weakly, tried ineffectually to grasp something, anything. Voices whirled by, too garbled to make any sense of. But they were friendly. Trying to help. Trying to stabilize his Spark, trying to keep him alive...

_'Blue...'_

Blurr realized, abruptly, that this was not where Blue was. This was not the Well of All Sparks, not by a long shot. This was... home?

One.

Two.

Three.

_Breathe_.

This was Cybertron. This was... the world of the living, the world that he'd so recently left. But how was he back? How had he left the Well of All Sparks? It was impossible, they said. Except, maybe...

_'There is always... always... always a silver lining... you just have to find it.'_

...Except maybe Blue had somehow, some way, managed to send him back. Because Blue wanted him to heal, hadn't he? Wanted him to let go of the guilt and shame and stop running from everyone and everything, to slow down just enough to let his Spark begin to _heal_...

Bluestreak had shown him the silver lining, had given him a second chance at life...

One.

Two.

Three.

_Breathe_.

Maybe he should live it to the fullest.


End file.
